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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215687">Heist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlderEcho/pseuds/OlderEcho'>OlderEcho</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>South Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action &amp; Romance, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, French Accent Butchering, Gen, Gun Violence, Heist, M/M, Multi, Some OOC Behavior, excessive use of ellipsis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:20:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,280</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlderEcho/pseuds/OlderEcho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you steal something small you are a petty thief, but if you steal millions you are a gentleman of society."<br/>---<br/>This is just a one-shot AU fic I'm moving over from an old account on FF.net. Some behaviour may be OOC (particularly Stan), but meh, I needed to do it for the sake of plot (lol). Who doesn't love a fun heist fic?? I am also a shameless fan of the 'Kytophe' ship and there aren't nearly enough fics for them. French accents will be butchered in the writing, drama is plenty, and justice will be served.<br/>---<br/>Not beta'd. Just reposted for archival purposes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Christophe "The Mole", Kyle Broflovski/Stan Marsh, Token Black/Clyde Donovan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
People immediately began to scream as a shot was fired into the air.</p><p>Bank customers and staff alike scrambled to duck down; dropping like flies as the attackers flooded in. More shots were fired and the guards were quickly disarmed and sent tumbling to the ground with the rest of the hostages.</p><p>Three of the robbers were wearing '<em>Terrance</em>' masks, while the other three were wearing '<em>Phillip</em>' masks.</p><p>"Nobody panic, and nobody move!" One of the robbers shouted, once more firing his gun into the air.</p><p>Four of the hooligans kept their guns and weapons on the citizens now trapped in the bank; rounding them all out to the front, along with the cashiers from the back. The other two thieves hopped over the counter and immediately headed back toward the safe with a large, reinforced suitcase.</p><p>A <em>Terrance</em> hopped onto the counter while the <em>Phillip</em> continued on - taking flawless aim to shoot out each security camera with excellent precision - before hopping down, and joining his counterpart. Reaching the large safe, <em>Terrance</em> and <em>Phillip</em> knelt in front of it; clicking open the large suitcase and taking out a technical device. Pressing four separate suction cups against the door, they hooked a number of wires up to a small laptop.</p><p>"...Ow long weel zhis take?" The robber in the <em>Phillip</em> mask asked impatiently.</p><p>The <em>Terrance</em> sighed, "My dear, we've been over this..." the distinctly British voice mused, "By the time you finish disabling the silent alarm, the vault will be open. So you best continue with your own task, hm?"</p><p>The <em>Phillip</em> burglar grumbled a French curse beneath his mask, before he kicked in a nearby 'employees only' door - disappearing from the vault alcove, and jogging up a back stairwell.</p><p>When he reached the top floor, he passed a steel ladder and looked up (verifying what would be their passage to the roof) before he kept going toward a large fuse box. Cracking open the lock by hitting it with the butt of his gun - the<em> Phillip</em> took out a switchblade and cut a number of precisely positioned wires, before flicking the blade closed and concealing it on his person once again.</p><p>Heading back toward the access ladder, the young robber quickly scaled it, and emerged onto the cool morning air. As he reached the far left corner of the roof, he dropped the duffel bag that had been slung across his shoulders onto the ground. He knelt down, and the <em>Phillip</em> began to route through it.</p><p>
  <em>"What's your position?" A familiar, firm voice buzzed through his earpiece.</em>
</p><p>The young male chuckled from beneath the mask. "I am on ze roof... estimated rendevous weel begin een five minutes."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"O-Oh GOD! Oh Jesus! We're gonna <em>die</em>, man!" Tweek flinched, cowering on the floor next to Kenny.</p><p>The other blond looked at the vagabonds. "Don't worry Tweek, these guys are full of shit." He challenged loudly with a cocky smirk. "The police are on their way... they'll all be pissing their pants in five minutes. Shit, they're amateurs." He scoffed.</p><p>The other hostages and civilians looked at Kenny like he was insane.</p><p>"S-Shut <em>up</em> man!" Tweek begged as one of the robbers approached them.</p><p>He was also wearing a <em>Phillip</em> mask. "<em>Amateurs</em>, huh?" He sneered, grabbing Kenny by the scruff of his neck. Tossing him into the middle of the floor, a number of the burglars began to beat and kick him ruthlessly.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone ELSE got a smart mouth?" The<em> Phillip</em> growled threateningly.<br/>
<br/>
The hostages cowered and whimpered, as they stayed huddled on the ground. Kenny coughed up some blood and chuckled. "That's...<em> seriously</em>... the best... you can do?" He panted.<br/>
<br/>
Turning slowly, the <em>Phillip</em> calmly walked over to him. He stood in front of Kenny - who was kneeling on the ground - before he casually lifted his gun, and shot him right through the head.<br/>
<br/>
People screamed and cried out in fear and despair as they watched the helpless teen crumble lifelessly to the ground.<br/>
<br/>
"GAH! O-Oh JESUS!" Tweek yelled.<br/>
<br/>
Clyde looked up from his crouched position. "Tweek, <em>shut the hell up</em>!" He hissed desperately.<br/>
<br/>
The robber in the <em>Phillip</em> mask looked back toward the spazzing blond and hastily walked over to him. Grasping Tweek roughly by the scruff of his neck, he pulled him to his feet. "You like making noise?" He sneered. "Let's make a trip to the vault... you can make all the noise you want." The burglar threatened, dragging Tweek behind him.<br/>
<br/>
The blond twitched and struggled, "N-No! <em>PLEASE</em>! Nngh! Oh GOD, HELP ME!" He screamed as he was pulled behind the counter and out of sight.<br/>
<br/>
As another <em>Phillip</em>-masked thief entered the vault alcove with his captive, he witnessed the previous <em>Terrance</em> mask finishing cracking the vault's code. The door creaked and it's mechanisms slowly disabled as it began to press open, displaying countless heaps of money before both burglars and the hostage.<br/>
<br/>
"Spot on." The <em>Terrance</em> hummed, grabbing the duffel bag slung around his shoulder as he headed inside.<br/>
<br/>
The <em>Phillip</em> shoved Tweek against the wall, pinning him there. "Now are you gonna help? ... Or do I need to fuck you into submission?" He grumbled deeply.<br/>
<br/>
"Y-You know I -<em>nngh</em>- will..." Tweek answered, rolling his eyes as he twitched.<br/>
<br/>
The burglar lifted up the bottom of his <em>Phillip</em> mask, exposing only his mouth (curved into a small smirk) and the bottom of his nose. "You're no fun." He muttered, leaning in and capturing Tweek's lips in a heated kiss. The blond indulged in it for a moment, before he shoved the thief away from him.<br/>
<br/>
"<em>Nngh</em>! J-Jesus man, we don't have TIME!" He whined, shoving past the <em>Phillip</em> assailant and storming quickly into the vault.<br/>
<br/>
The other burglar chuckled as he pulled his mask back down, and followed Tweek and <em>Terrance</em> into the vault. The three of them began to sweep as much cash as possible into their duffel bags - clearing off the counters one pile at a time.<br/>
<br/>
When the bags were full, the <em>Phillip </em>grunted as he slung the heavy bags over his shoulders before they headed back out of the vault into the alcove again. "Phillip is waiting for you on the roof, <em>Phillip.</em>" <em>Terrance</em> said in a smug, amused tone.<br/>
<br/>
"H-Hurry up and -<em>nngh</em>- hit me," Tweek pressed, anxiously looking around. "I-It can't look like I'm -<em>ack</em>- involved, man!"<br/>
<br/>
<em>Terrance</em> grabbed Tweek by the front of his shirt, and raised a fist - but before he could strike, <em>Phillip</em> caught his arm. "If you actually break any bones in his body... I'll kill you." He threatened.<br/>
<br/>
"How unprofessional." <em>Terrance</em> tsked, shrugging his arm out of <em>Phillip</em>'s stone-like grip. "Do as planned, and get onto the roof." He ordered darkly. "Don't make me remind you what's at stake."<br/>
<br/>
The thief stared at him intensely from beneath the smiling and eerie looking <em>Phillip</em>-mask, before he bound up the stairwell that the previous <em>Phillip</em> had cleared.</p><p>When he emerged outside, he saw a second <em>Phillip</em> crouching near the corner of the rooftop, assembling a grappling gun.<br/>
<br/>
"This better work." he said, dropping some of the heavy, money-laden bags onto the roof before he took out his 9mm and loaded it.<br/>
<br/>
The first <em>Phillip</em> chuckled, "Eet weel."</p><p><br/>
<br/>
Back in the bank, <em>Terrance</em> emerged from the vault alcove with Tweek in tow; bleeding, bruised and stumbling as he was dragged out from around the counter and tossed into the middle of the floor. The other hostages looked at the beaten teen with a swell of pity and fear.<br/>
<br/>
"Right then," The Brit yelled, "Anyone <em>else</em> want to be a hero?" He delivered another sound kick to the trembling, twitching blond's side, causing him to cry out in pain.<br/>
<br/>
Clyde narrowed his eyes, and in an instant, had raised himself up - body checking the <em>Terrance</em> burglar in the back, causing him to stumble forward onto the ground. Clyde scampered forward and desperately tried to reach his disregarded gun - but two more <em>Terrance</em> and <em>Phillip</em> goons grabbed him, and began to drag him toward the back vault alcove.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, let go fuckwads!" Clyde yelled, trying to struggle against the two other burglars.<br/>
<br/>
Once he was in the back vault, the other <em>Terrance </em>and<em> Phillip</em> released him as they shrugged off their empty duffel bags and headed inside to continue to gather the money.<br/>
<br/>
"That was pretty good, right?" Clyde smirked proudly. "I bodychecked that Limey motherfucker like a pro."<br/>
<br/>
<em>Phillip</em> sighed as he swept bundles of money into his duffel bag. "If you were so badass, you would have volunteered to be a <em>thief</em> and not just one of the hostages, you pussy."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you." Clyde pouted. "I didn't hear you complain when your ginger-boyfriend volunteered to run tech from the van."<br/>
<br/>
The <em>Terrance</em> turned to him, "At least he's being useful. All you have to do is cause trouble and get the shit kicked out of you."<br/>
<br/>
"Which, I'm going to enjoy doing." The <em>Phillip</em> interrupted as he tossed the duffel bag outside of the vault. Grabbing Clyde by the arm, he shoved him out of the vault as well - before he landed a sound punch across his face.<br/>
<br/>
The brunette whined, "Ow! Fuck, go easy asshole!" He complained.<br/>
<br/>
"You're a hostage, bitch. Shut the fuck up."<em> Terrance</em> spat as he finished filling his own duffel bag. Leaving their filled duffel bags near the edge of the stairwell, the two thieves grabbed Clyde and dragged him back into the fray - abandoning him once again with the other hostages.<br/>
<br/>
One of the <em>Phillips</em> from the roof traipsed back down the stairs again to find two more filled-and-waiting duffel bags. Hoisting them over his shoulder with another grunt, he jogged back up the stairs, the ladder, and finally onto the roof.</p><p><br/>
"Eez zhat everyzhing?" The other <em>Phillip</em> mask asked - positioning the grappling gun on his shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
He nodded, "Yeah. Couple bundles left in the vault, but... fuck it... might as well leave them something, right?" He mused.<br/>
<br/>
The second <em>Phillip</em> took a moment to aim, before he shot the grappling hook; both watched it soar across the downtown street, before it latched onto the neighboring building beside the National Denver Bank.<br/>
<br/>
The two thieves began quickly attaching the duffel bags full of money to the grappling line, before they zipped them across the suspended wire hanging over the downtown streets, toward the next building.<br/>
<br/>
"Zend zhem up." The Phillip mask spoke into his com.</p><p><br/>
<em>The voice on the other end of his earpiece answered, "They should be there in one minute. But there was an outgoing call to 911 on someone's cell phone... you have five minutes to clear the building." He instructed seriously.</em><br/>
<br/>
The other thieves threatened the hostages to stay down, firing their guns again as they headed behind the counter - past the vault alcove - and up the stairs to join their companions.<br/>
<br/>
When all six were on the roof, they latched themselves onto the grapple line and whizzed over the street - landing with thuds onto the neighboring downtown rooftop. From there, four split off from two, and began racing down floor after floor until they reached the tenth level.<br/>
<br/>
The other two picked up the duffel bags and started to shove them down the nearest, neighboring air duct - which, consequently, had a small black spray-painted 'X' on the side.<br/>
<br/>
Once they'd done that, they too left the rooftop and ran down the stairs - only they didn't stop on the tenth floor... they kept moving further and further down until they reached the basement.<br/>
<br/>
Heading through the halls with practiced familiarity, both Phillips removed their masks - Christophe and Craig moved quickly to shed the rest of their tactical clothing as they moved.<br/>
<br/>
When they reached a specific maintenance room, the two changed into dark gray jumpsuits - mimicking that of garbage men. Moving over to the air duct, they began to quickly unscrew and dismantle the bottom of it until they were able to pull out the duffel bags stuffed with money. Craig held open a series of garbage bags, while Christophe tossed the duffel bags inside them - amidst real garbage.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Meanwhile, Token, Stan, Gregory and Cartman emerged from the tenth floor bathroom - suitcases in hand, impeccably dressed in expensive business suits.</p><p>Stepping into the elevator, the four young men didn't speak; Gregory took out a cell phone and began texting, while the other three just waited patiently.</p><p>When they reached the lobby, they exited the elevator and passed a number of other arriving employees; some were milling around chatting to their co-workers, or talking on the phone... somewhere entering the elevators they just left - while others were speaking with reception.<br/>
<br/>
The four young men blended in with the other impeccably dressed employees as they headed out the door and onto the downtown street. They stopped with other witnesses, who were watching several police cars pull up to the Denver National Bank. A small group of people were running out of the bank, crying and talking quickly to the officers who were arriving and surrounding the building.<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" Stan asked a young woman who was also watching.<br/>
<br/>
She looked over to him, "I think the bank was just robbed. A lot of people are freaking out." The girl explained.<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" He asked, furrowing his brow with concern.</p><p>She just shrugged and looked back toward the police who were trying to clear the area. The four young men exchanged a look, before they continued on. Token took out a set of keys, and clicked the button, causing a nearby black Mercedes Benzes to unlock. The four boys got in, and Token began to drive.<br/>
<br/>
A short time later, Craig and Christophe emerged, steering a trolley of garbage out of the back of the building into the nearby alley. Heading over to a van which had <em>'Jackson's Refrigeration'</em> written on the side, they pounded on the back door three times before it opened and they tossed in the garbage bags, following after.<br/>
<br/>
Smirking, Christophe settled his eyes on Kyle Broflovski - who was seated in front of multiple computers and equipment.<br/>
<br/>
"Butters, aren't you supposed to be <em>driving</em>?" Craig asked impatiently as he shut the doors behind them.<br/>
<br/>
The cute blond looked up, "O-Oh yeah!" He squeaked happily, before he crawled into the front seat and started the van. Craig grumbled and maneuvered himself to the front seat as well, into the passenger side as he began to direct Butters on where to go.<br/>
<br/>
Christophe stayed in the back with Kyle as they began to drive. The Frenchman couldn't help but smirk at the studious redhead, while he began to shut down the system and remove his headset.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you smiling about?" Kyle asked.<br/>
<br/>
The Frenchman shrugged, "We deed eet." He purred, taking Butters' empty seat and wheeling himself up to sit in front of Kyle. "...Ow about a kees to celebrate?"<br/>
<br/>
"I doubt <em>Stan</em> would appreciate that." Kyle mumbled, though he was helpless to stop the blush from appearing on his cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
Christophe narrowed his eyes a bit as he rested his hands on either side of Kyle's hips. "I do nut trust 'eem." He stated simply.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't trust <em>anyone</em>." the other reminded him.<br/>
<br/>
But the brunette simply gave him a calm, bare smile, "I trust <em>you</em>." He argued.</p><p>Leaning forward, he brushed his lips lightly against Kyle's cheek - grazing his nose into his soft red hair, before standing, "Well done, Kyel..." He said with a nod, before turning to begin changing back into his regular clothes.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle watched him for a moment, before he turned around and looked back toward the computers - which were shutting down.<br/>
<br/>
He couldn't believe they actually pulled it off...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>By the time they arrived back in South Park, the money had been divided eleven ways, and the boys went their separate ways.</p><p>They'd left their hometown under the guise of a 'camping trip'. Being that they were all between 21-23 years old now, they hardly needed parental-approval anymore. Their lives were their own. And with this heist... about to get a lot better.<br/>
<br/>
Because with age, came new responsibilities. And frankly, NONE of the boys had been looking forward to the debt they would accumulate by going to University, or even just moving out of South Park. In fact, the only person who didn't need to be involved in the heist was Token... but apparently, he was a bit of a thrill seeker, and got involved just to prove he could help them pull it off.</p><p>Besides, fronting the cash for the fancy car, the expensive suits and the equipment made him all the more beneficial. Kyle had taken care of the research, the floor plans, and the security checks - while Gregory and Christophe had cased the bank for its weaknesses and the 'opportune' moment.<br/>
<br/>
As the boys dropped off the rental van at the lot once more - they all headed in their separate directions.<br/>
<br/>
"G-Gee... when do you think Kenny will come back?" Butters asked hesitantly; he'd been the only one NOT on board with killing his boyfriend - but the group felt it necessary to 'kill' a hostage to help scare people into submission.<br/>
<br/>
With Kenny's ability to come back from the dead, the choice had been a no-brainer.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sure he'll be back tomorrow, Butters." Kyle soothed, gripping his own duffel bag tightly as he began to walk alongside Stan.<br/>
<br/>
"You think Clyde and Tweek will be ok?" Token asked. "Neither one of them does well under pressure."<br/>
<br/>
Gregory narrowed his eyes, "That twitching spaz better not blow the whistle on this entire plan. If I find out he's given us all up... I'll show him 'pressure' like he's never felt before." He threatened.<br/>
<br/>
"Tweek <em>isn't</em> going to talk." Craig snapped defensively, moving right up to position his taller form in front of Gregory. "He and Clyde are taking the BIGGEST risk staying behind to go through all that questioning as hostages." He reminded the Brit, "So shut your fucking mouth."<br/>
<br/>
Stan grasped Craig's arm and tugged him away from Gregory. "Easy boys, easy." He laughed, "We've done the job, and nothing went wrong. Kenny, Clyde and Tweek will be back before we know it - and then things can go back to normal."<br/>
<br/>
"He's right, who caaaaares?" Cartman finally chimed in. The husky young man had been rather quiet during the whole endeavor (which was rare)... but then again, all the boys knew of Cartman's long-time, boyhood dream to acquire a million dollars. Now, with the bundles of cash they'd all secured, he was over that goal.<br/>
<br/>
All of them were set for life. "Remember assholes, NO ONE can deposit this into the bank. Keep it with you for a few days while the heat dies down... then deposit it in small amounts. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves." He snarked.<br/>
<br/>
Stan rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, we <em>got</em> it." He brushed off quickly, before he slid his hand into Kyle's and tugged him to walk at a faster pace. "Let's go celebrate." He purred, sliding another arm around the redhead's waist.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle smiled and nodded - but when he looked up, he saw Christophe staring at him calmly. Gregory was speaking with the Frenchman, as his hand rubbing along the Frenchman's lower back suggestively... though Christophe didn't seem to be paying any attention to his blond companion. Looking down and away from the mysterious mercenary, Kyle willingly went along with Stan as they headed back to their apartment.<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna come over for a beer, Craig?" Token asked, as he began to get into his car to go home.<br/>
<br/>
But his friend just shook his head, "No. I'm just gonna take my share and Tweek's share home. I'll wait for him to call me." He mumbled, before he began to walk off in another direction. Cartman had already started off and was halfway down the street with his share, without a goodbye. Gregory and Christophe left soon after, while Token drove off.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, Butters was the only one left standing there alone with his, and Kenny's, share.<br/>
<br/>
"A-Aw <em>hamburgers</em>." He muttered cutely to himself, as his skinny arms began to drag and heavy bags of cash along behind him toward their apartment. Luckily it wasn't far... but it would have been so much easier if Kenny were there to help out.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Token and Craig stood at the South Park bus terminal around 7:30am the next morning: watching the Denver bus pull in slowly and park - before it's passengers began to get off. They caught sight of Clyde first, and then spotted Tweek scampering down the stairs and off the bus right after.<br/>
<br/>
When they saw their friends waiting across the street, Clyde waved and began to casually walk over. Tweek, on the other hand, twitched and trembled as he saw Craig; the blond made a quick attempt to run toward him - but Clyde instinctively gripped his arm, preventing him from running into the street without looking.<br/>
<br/>
Once the way was clear, Clyde started across in a walk, while Tweek burst into a run directly toward Craig. His boyfriend was ready, and when the blond jumped up into his arms, he was there to catch him. "You ok?"<br/>
<br/>
"<em>N-Nngh</em>!" Tweek shuddered, wrapping his arms tighter. "Y-Yeah... but... <em>Jesus</em>, what if they find out! <em>What happens</em>? Christ man, I-I don't -ack- wanna be interrogated again!" He whimpered.<br/>
<br/>
As Clyde finally reached the other side, he rolled his eyes. "Tweek, it's <em>over</em>. We're fine, they don't suspect a thing." He continued. "How did the rest of the plan go?" he asked, looking to his best friend.<br/>
<br/>
"As well as it could have." Token shrugged. "Everyone got back - the money's divided and life goes on."<br/>
<br/>
The foursome headed toward Token's car and slipped in; Clyde got into the passenger seat, while Craig and Tweek got into the back.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When Butters woke up the next morning, alone in his bed, he sighed and rubbed his eyes wearily. He was about to start lamenting, yet again, over the absence of his boyfriend (who'd sacrificed himself for 'dramatic purposes' during the heist) when something caught his attention.<br/>
<br/>
Someone was routing around in the kitchen of the apartment.</p><p>Leaning over the side of the bed, Butters looked beneath it to see their two duffel bags (which contained their share of the money) still safely tucked beneath it. If that was a robber, he hadn't found the money yet. Whimpering, the thin blond grabbed a rather large knife that the couple contained in the drawer of their bedside table. Kenny had insisted on keeping one in there for Butters sake, SHOULD he ever need to defend himself when he was alone.<br/>
<br/>
Clutching it in his small hands, Butters quietly crept out of the bedroom and toward the hall. Shaking a bit as he moved, he tried to be as brave as possible, and peeked around the corner. To his surprise (and great relief) it was Kenny.<br/>
<br/>
"Kenny!" Butters shouted, dropping the knife on the nearest counter before he bound over to his boyfriend and into his arms.<br/>
<br/>
He grinned, "Hey Buttercup... glad to see you're alright."<br/>
<br/>
"Well g-gee, I'm glad to see YOU'RE alright." Butters insisted, looking up into the cerulean blue eyes of his taller lover. "W-We got our share!" He added brightly. "It's all under the bed, s-safe and sound. Jeeze. It sure is a lotta money, Ken."<br/>
<br/>
Kenny nodded. "Good." He paused, glancing toward the hall, before looking back to the blond in his arms. "I was thinking... we should probably leave."<br/>
<br/>
"L-Leave?" Butters repeated quietly in complete confusion. "W-Well... why? What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
The older boy shook his head, "Nothing. At least, not YET." He mumbled. "But we've come into a lot of money... we <em>all</em> have." Kenny began to explain. "And while I trust most of our friends, I don't trust ALL of them. Specifically Cartman." He said, taking Butters' hand and leading him back toward the bedroom. "And if I know that fat sonofabitch, it'll only be a matter of time before he either tries to swindle us out of our money one by one... or, tries to take it by force. At least if we ditch South Park for a while, <em>we</em> won't have to worry about it."<br/>
<br/>
"A-Aw Ken..." Butters mewled, looking around anxiously as he bumped his fists together. Kenny had already started to toss clothes into a suitcase. "I... I don't know about this..."<br/>
<br/>
Kenny turned around, and looked to the small blond thoughtfully. "Butters... what's holding us here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well... n-nuthin'...but," The other admitted tentatively.<br/>
<br/>
His boyfriend took a few more steps toward him. "Don't you trust me?" He asked quietly. "I just want to keep you safe." He purred, cupping Butters' cheek into his hand as he looked down at him. "I finally have the money to take care of you the way I'd like. We can be just as happy... if not happier... somewhere else."<br/>
<br/>
There was a brief moment of silence between them while Butters considered the option... before finally, the small blond began to smile.<br/>
<br/>
"A-Alright..." He concluded brightly. "Heck. L-Let's do it!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>"So... what, they just up and <em>left</em>?" Stan asked suspiciously as the group sat around their apartment.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle and Stan had invited everyone over to their place after Kyle had gotten a letter from Kenny and Butters; explaining that they had left South Park, but would try and keep in touch.<br/>
<br/>
"Apparently." Kyle shrugged, handing the letter to Gregory - who was reaching out toward it. "Kenny doesn't say much. He just says that since they have the 'means' to leave, they figured now was as good a time as any."<br/>
<br/>
Clyde scoffed, "I don't trust that poor piece of shit."<br/>
<br/>
"I hate to admit this, but he's right." Gregory agreed calmly. "It's rather suspicious that the two would disappear <em>just</em> after the conclusion of the heist. What could they possibly be running away from?" The Brit asked rhetorically.<br/>
<br/>
Stan grumbled and paced around the apartment. "I swear to god, if Kenny squealed on us and ditched out, I'll kill him."<br/>
<br/>
"Calm down." Kyle scolded, feeling the tension in the room rising quickly. "First of all, Kenny and Butters would NEVER turn on us. They have no reason to." He reminded them all. "Why would they betray us after we gave them their cut... AND have two mercenaries on our side?" He shrugged, looking over at Christophe and Gregory.</p><p>The Frenchman gave Kyle a supportive smirk and nodded. "Maybe they were just tired of South Park. It's not the craziest thing Kenny's ever done." Kyle continued.<br/>
<br/>
Craig was seated in a comfortable armchair with Tweek perched on the floor right between his legs, nursing a coffee. "I agree." He mumbled with a lazy shrug. "They left... who cares? Tweek and I will probably leave soon, too. Why would we stay in South Park when we finally have the money to go somewhere else?" He asked, absently threading his fingers into Tweek's wild blond hair. The last thing he needed was his boyfriend becoming more paranoid.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
As the others continued to talk, Kyle slipped off to head into the kitchen, taking a few empty glasses with him from their guests. As he stood in front of the sink and casually rinsed them out, an all-too familiar voice interrupted his thoughts, "You zhink zhey weel drop eet?"<br/>
<br/>
Glancing back toward Christophe - who was casually leaning against their kitchen counter and eying him - Kyle sighed. "I hope so." He shook his head. "I mean, I don't like this whole thing either, but... I <em>trust</em> Kenny." He admitted. Pausing, Kyle glanced toward the den. "But I DON'T trust Cartman."<br/>
<br/>
"Why eez zhat?" The mercenary asked curiously; though his voice didn't convey any sort of 'surprise' at Kyle's statement of distrust for his childhood rival. If anything, his tone was more intrigued.<br/>
<br/>
The redhead shrugged, "Well, look at him. He's just sat here all night... listening while we talk about this whole thing. Have you ever known Cartman to keep quiet? About ANYTHING? Especially when it comes to a possible witch-hunt, or pinning blame on someone?" He clarified suspiciously. "Something's up."<br/>
<br/>
"Mmm." Christophe murmured, narrowing his eyes toward the den, before he looked back toward Kyle. "Per'aps you are just being paranoid, eh?" He shrugged, moving closer toward the slightly younger man. "Eet eez a tense time. For everyone. Ze imagination can run wild when zhere are mon'ee and secrets involved."<br/>
<br/>
Kyle nodded, and couldn't help but close his eyes when he felt Christophe's arms warmly wrap around his slender waist, pulling his back against his chest as his nose and lips nestled against his ear.<br/>
<br/>
"I weel nut let anyzhing 'appen to you." The Frenchman promised in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle let out a shaky sigh, and flushed as he pulled himself out of Christophe's arms reluctantly and turned around. "Uh... t-thanks." Kyle cleared his throat awkwardly as he kept his green eyes down. "But I don't need your chain-smoking ass to look out for me. I can take care of myself."<br/>
<br/>
Christophe let him go, but didn't really step away from him. He just continued to smile fondly, keeping the electricity of their gaze connected. Kyle had to admit; the feeling of the mercenary's warm body heat pulsing against him was comforting and kind of... alluring. There was so much he didn't know about the wayward Frenchman, and yet, he felt like he knew more about him than anyone else in that living room (Gregory excluded).</p><p>Why he had decided that Kyle was worthy to be a confidant, he didn't know. But it was---<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"Hey." A voice from the doorway interrupted.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Turning, the two saw Stan standing in the doorway, glaring at Christophe's proximity to his boyfriend. "Everyone's gonna take off now." He said, keeping his eyes glued on Christophe as he walked in and stood beside his boyfriend. "So... have a safe trip home." The tone clearly suggesting that the Frenchman should take his leave.<br/>
<br/>
"<em>Bonne nuit</em>." Christophe muttered, connecting his eyes with Kyle's once more, before he headed out of their kitchen and followed everyone else out of the apartment.<br/>
<br/>
Stan turned back to Kyle as they heard everyone leave, "What were you guys talking about?" He asked curiously; though his voice was portraying a bit more of his jealousy than he would have liked.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing." Kyle blushed, shaking his head as he continued to rinse out the glasses their guests had used. "I was just saying that I don't trust Cartman. He was so quiet tonight."<br/>
<br/>
His dark-haired boyfriend shifted his eyes down, "To be honest, I don't trust <em>anyone</em> right now." Stan admitted with a bit of a growl.<br/>
<br/>
"You still trust me, right?" Kyle asked hesitantly with a grin, moving back to his boyfriend to wrap his arms around his neck.<br/>
<br/>
Stan looked down at the shorter redhead - and for a few moments - didn't say anything.<br/>
<br/>
His stare made Kyle a bit uncomfortable (almost as much as his lack of response). "Yeah..." Stan finally replied, resting his arms loosely around Kyle's waist.<br/>
<br/>
For some unsettling reason... Kyle didn't believe him.</p><p> </p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p>"Don't stop... believin'... hold on to that <em>feel-ay-e-ahn</em>..." Cartman sang beneath his breath as he screwed on the silencer to the tip of his gun.<br/>
<br/>
He was currently riding the elevator up to Token's penthouse apartment. He and Clyde had moved in to a new 'fancy' building in South Park's downtown area, and took up the top floor. Why Token had <em>ever</em> agreed to do the job, Cartman didn't know; the guy already had enough money to last him five lifetimes.<br/>
<br/>
As the elevator opened, Cartman stepped out and held his gun ready. Reaching the front double-doors of their penthouse, the husky young man gave it a firm kick, easily busting open the door. One would think there might be more 'security' precaution for such a high-class residence, as the building itself was enough hard to get into with security in the lobby. Luckily for Cartman, getting past the front-desk security hadn't been hard. Everyone could be bribed; he'd learned <em>that</em> as a child.<br/>
<br/>
Hearing their door smash open, Token and Clyde immediately rushed over to see what had happened; their faces dropping when they saw Cartman standing there - pointing a gun at them.<br/>
<br/>
"Where's your money?" He asked, knowing fully well that none of them were supposed to 'deposit' it; ergo, the money would be around. When the boys didn't answer, Cartman sighed, "It's nothing personal, you guys... I just started with you because I felt like it." He smirked. "I'll be hitting everyone else."<br/>
<br/>
Token's eyes narrowed, "You're a selfish sonofabitch." He growled.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh <em>Token</em>," He chuckled, "Your petty insults will only make this entire situation worse. Get. The. Money." Cartman ordered.<br/>
<br/>
Exchanging a look, the two young men paused, before Token went over to a picture on the wall. Taking it off, he revealed a safe. Cartman waited patiently while he opened it; showing the two black duffel bags inside. Taking them out, Token begrudgingly tossed them down and in front of Cartman.<br/>
<br/>
"You always were an asshole." He growled. "You won't get away with this. Everyone's going to find out." Token reminded him.<br/>
<br/>
Cartman stuck out his lower lip and shrugged - before calmly raising the gun and firing it; shooting Token right in the middle of the head. His lifeless body crumpled to the ground.<br/>
<br/>
Clyde's mouth dropped open in complete shock; his eyes immediately welling up as he looked back to Cartman - shock and fear turning to furious anger and pure hatred. Unfortunately, he never even got a word out before Cartman shot him in the head as well.<br/>
<br/>
As the two lifeless bodies of his childhood companions lay on the ground, Cartman calmly picked up the two duffel bags and slung them over his shoulder before he walked out of the apartment without looking back.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>"...Police still have no suspects regarding the cold-blooded murder of local college students: Clyde Donovan and Token Black." The news anchor explained. "The Black family is using their wealthy resources to try and avenge their son, and find his killer."</em><br/>
<br/>
Kyle and Stan stared at their television, both watching the news report intensely. "I <em>knew</em> it..." The redhead hissed, shaking his head. "I KNEW that fatass was up to something!"<br/>
<br/>
"Calm down." Stan sighed. "We don't know it was Cartman."<br/>
<br/>
His boyfriend looked at him in disbelief, "Are you kidding? Stan, we KNOW it was Cartman - who else would be stupid and selfish enough to do something like this?! <em>No one</em> knew about the money except for us... and since the police didn't mention anything about it - obviously those bags are missing." Kyle deduced.<br/>
<br/>
Standing up, Kyle began to pace anxiously as Stan watched.<br/>
<br/>
"We've gotta come clean." He said finally.<br/>
<br/>
Stan's whole body tensed up, and he stood, "... Are you <em>crazy</em>?"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I know it's not right. And yes, we'll get in a LOT of trouble - but... I'm not going to let that fatass get away with something like THIS! He's gone too far, Stan!" Kyle pleaded angrily. "Come on - he just <em>killed</em> two of our friends! Cartman's <strong>only</strong> goal in life has been to become filthy rich. And while splitting the money from this stupid job was enough for the REST of us... Cartman won't stop until he has it all. He's a selfish asshole!"<br/>
<br/>
To Kyle's surprise, Stan stood up and grabbed his arm roughly. "Kyle, <em>listen</em> to me," He began in a dark, low voice. "We're not telling ANYONE about this. No one is coming forward... no one is confessing... because we swore we wouldn't." He reminded his boyfriend. "I'm not going to jail. If you're worried about Cartman coming after us, then we can leave."<br/>
<br/>
"What?!" The redhead yelled, "You can't be serious! Stan we CAN'T let him get away with this! We've-"<br/>
<br/>
But he was cut off when Stan's fist connected with his face, sending him reeling backwards onto the floor. The pain immediately throbbed and bloomed in his cheek, as Kyle looked up to Stan in complete and utter shock.<br/>
<br/>
"<strong>No</strong> Kyle." Stan growled deeply. "Let. It. Go." He ordered. "If Cartman comes after us, then we'll kill him first. But NO ONE is coming forward."<br/>
<br/>
Instead of storming out or leaving the room, Stan simply sat back down on the couch slowly - keeping his eyes firmly on his boyfriend. Kyle couldn't believe it; he didn't even know what to say. He had always been a moral person, and he'd thought Stan was too... but this was too much. Stan wasn't even showing any remorse for hitting him. As the tension between all of them continued to build, becoming more and more serious - Kyle just didn't know if he could handle it. Especially with everyone acting the way they were.<br/>
<br/>
Cartman had crossed the line - and as much as Stan might hate to acknowledge it, the only way they'd keep everyone safe, would <strong>be</strong> to come forward and face the consequences. Kyle didn't want to die. And he didn't want any more of his friends to die, either.<br/>
<br/>
But Stan...</p><p>Stan had been acting strange ever since they'd finished the damn job. Kyle didn't know what to think. As much as he hated to admit it... he found himself trusting Stan less and less. There was something about the look in his eyes - the more serious nature he'd adapted - and the way he spoke to him now. It reminded Kyle of all the times Randy would get a similar look in his eyes, or a crazy idea into his head.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe the paranoia was getting to him.<br/>
<br/>
Standing up finally, Kyle shifted around the couch and went into the kitchen to get some ice for his throbbing cheek. Part of him wanted to fight back; he wasn't a weakling... and if anyone else had punched him, Kyle would have certainly hit back without a second thought. But Stan was his boyfriend... and he'd-- ...just done it because things were tense, right?</p><p><br/>
<em>'Buzz ... Buzz'</em>
</p><p><br/>
The sound of his vibrating cellphone startled Kyle, but he quickly answered it. "Hello?"<br/>
<br/>
<em>"You 'eard ze news, oui?"</em> The familiar sound of Christophe's voice on the phone made Kyle release a slow, deep breath. It was a relief to hear the voice of someone he completely trusted.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle nodded, holding the phone. "Yeah... yeah, just saw it." He answered in a low tone. "It's Cartman."<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Oui." Christophe confirmed. "Zhat much eez obvious. Are you alright?"</em><br/>
<br/>
The redhead bit his lower lip, considering his answer before he finally replied, "Yeah. You?"<br/>
<br/>
<em>"For now." The Frenchman answered bitterly. "Eez Stan with you?"</em><br/>
<br/>
Kyle paused again, "...Yes."<br/>
<br/>
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end, before Christophe finally spoke again;<br/>
<br/>
<em>"...What's wrong?" He asked insistently. "Deed somezhing 'appen?" The hesitance in Kyle's voice was clearly sending warning-bells to Christophe.</em><br/>
<br/>
Kyle sighed and glanced around the kitchen, confirming he was alone before he continued in a hushed voice. "Stan's just... acting weird. This whole thing has me really fucking scared... I-I mentioned something about going to the police and maybe telling them it was Cartman, but... he... freaked out."<br/>
<br/>
Another heavy silence filled the receiver of the phone.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Kyel... I want you to get out of ze apartment." Christophe ordered in a slow, deep tone. "You are nut safe zhere."</em><br/>
<br/>
The redhead furrowed his brow, "Wait, why?... I know he's upset, but... h-he'd never actually-"<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Money <strong>changes</strong> people, Kyel..." Christophe interrupted knowingly. "Eet iz ripe for ze paranoia... fear... irrational be'avior. Zhis was your first time. And your moral center weel onlee cause suspicion and meestrust." He explained gravely.</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
"Kyle?"<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Stan's voice made the redhead jump, and without thinking, he quickly hung up the phone. "Hey..." He greeted awkwardly.<br/>
<br/>
"...Who was that?" He asked.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle shook his head, "It was... just Christophe. Checking in." He swallowed, trying to force himself to relax. "He saw the news too. He just wanted to know if we were ok..."<br/>
<br/>
"...So why'd you hang up on him?" Stan's voice was calm, but his normally soft blue eyes were sharper than usual.<br/>
<br/>
The redhead paused, tensing up a bit himself as he shook his head. "I just--... y-you just startled me," He mumbled awkwardly.<br/>
<br/>
Oddly enough, Stan didn't say anything. He just stared at Kyle.</p><p>He knew that his boyfriend had never really liked or trusted Christophe - and despite the fact that Kyle had been loyal to Stan for the past two years since they'd started dating (no matter how much Christophe might appeal to Kyle sometimes) - his best friend was always weary that Kyle was cheating on him.<br/>
<br/>
That phone call probably didn't help... nor would the fact that they'd just had a heated argument.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle stiffened when Stan walked toward him; the tall brunette wrapped his arms around the thin redhead and pulled him close as he looked down toward him with a serious gaze. "You... would never betray me... right?" Stan asked quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"N-No, Stan..." He answered quickly. "Jesus. I would NEVER betray you. You're my best friend. I love you..." Kyle reminded him.<br/>
<br/>
Without another word, Stan suddenly captured Kyle's lips with his own in a hungry, bruising kiss. He couldn't help but moan (trying to ignore the sting of his cheek and mouth) as his boyfriend roughly pushed him against the wall - eagerly fumbling with the front of his pants while their tongues swirled together. Kyle was a bit surprised at this sudden act of passionate possession...<br/>
<br/>
He was acting so strange; Stan had punched him square in the fact not even ten minutes prior - and now... he was ravaging him passionately?<br/>
<br/>
It didn't make sense.<br/>
<br/>
Something still didn't feel right...</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Where the devil are you going at this hour?" Gregory purred, leaning against the doorway of the living room of their apartment, watching Christophe move around with his usual ruthless efficiency.<br/>
<br/>
The Frenchman was shrugging on his black bomber jacket, and strapping himself up with a few carefully hidden 'weapons of choice'. "I am goeeng to check up on 'im." He answered.<br/>
<br/>
"When are you going to give it up?" Gregory laughed gleefully. "He has a <em>boyfriend</em>... and he's made it perfectly clear that he loves him. This whole 'hero' act you're playing up would be <em>funny</em> if it weren't so pathetic." He sneered.<br/>
<br/>
Christophe shot his blond companion a glare, and opened his mouth to respond - when a small, barely noticeable 'creak' hit his ears.</p><p>His brow furrowed, and just as Gregory turned to look down the hall - Christophe heard a silenced 'shot' pierce through the air. He watched as Gregory tensed, and collapsed onto the ground; his head bearing a small hole, which now had blood oozing out from it.<br/>
<br/>
Hearing another creak in the hall, Christophe withdrew his gun - and fired into the neighboring wall rapidly - almost emptying his entire clip before he stopped and allowed the air to settle.<br/>
<br/>
"Just give me Gregory's half, you French piece of shit." Cartman's voice came wafting from the damaged hall. Christophe still couldn't see him, but he knew he was there. "I swear I'll leave."<br/>
<br/>
Christophe snarled, "Bullsheet." He hissed. "You 'ave ten seconds before I end your life." He threatened; cocking his gun back again as he quickly changed the magazine round with one from his belt.<br/>
<br/>
"Well there IS another option." Cartman mused from behind the hall. "I could leave now... and just continue on. I've still got to pay a visit to Tweek and Craig... and Kyle and Stan." He chuckled.<br/>
<br/>
He visibly tensed at the mention of Kyle's name.<br/>
<br/>
"So... you can GIVE me your shares, and prolong me from going to that ginger-Jew you seem so fucking fond of," Cartman continued. "OR... I can leave right now, and go put him out of his goddamn misery." He chuckled.<br/>
<br/>
Silence.<br/>
<br/>
Huffing out an annoyed breath, Cartman stepped out from the hall and shot wildly into the living room. But to his surprise, Christophe wasn't there.</p><p>He furrowed his brow and immediately was on guard again. "Come on, you French piece of shit..." He grumbled, looking around cautiously, close to barreling the closets down... until he noticed the fluttering curtain near an open window.</p><p>Sneering to himself, Cartman rushed over and looked out it. They were fairly high up, but given his experience, Cartman wouldn't put it past Christophe to take some kind of stupid escape risk. Or have a back up plan. Mumbling curses to himself, Cartman searched their apartment from top to bottom... but found no trace of the money.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck! GOD DAMMIT you FUCKING French piece of shit!" He swore loudly to himself, before carelessly stepping over Gregory's body and disappearing out the door again...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Craig picked up his cell phone as he lazily sat on the couch in his rented house; Tweek was spooned up beside him comfortably watching the Wizard of Oz. "What?" He answered impatiently.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Gregory's dead." Kyle's voice came from the other end.</em><br/>
<br/>
The phrase alone made Craig freeze. "...What?"<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Just like Token and Clyde." He continued. "Shot in the head."</em><br/>
<br/>
Craig's eyes flickered down to Tweek; it had taken enough coaxing to calm the blond down after they lost Clyde and Token. Tweek didn't handle it very well, and this was the calmest he'd been since yesterday when they'd first found out. Both planned to attend the funeral, but now... Craig's earlier fears that their death was somehow linked to the job were confirmed. "Who?" Craig asked calmly - hoping not to upset or tip off Tweek.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"Cartman!" Kyle snapped angrily, clearly on edge. "Who the fuck else? He's the only one who makes sense, and he's the ONLY one who's selfish enough to do something so cold hearted!" The redhead growled. "Stan and I are waiting for that sonofabitch to show up. But I wanted to call you... it could be you next." He said gravely.</em><br/>
<br/>
Without answering, Craig snarled and hung up the phone - and stuffed it into his pocket. Standing up quickly, Tweek shrieked after becoming startled with the sudden movement. "W-What?! WHAT?!" He asked nervously.<br/>
<br/>
"Get upstairs." his boyfriend snapped firmly. Kneeling on the ground, Craig reached under the couch, and pulled out two 9mm guns, cocking them back and loading them.<br/>
<br/>
Tweek's eyes shot open wider, "W-What's wrong? <em>GAH</em>! O-Oh god! <em>Gnomes</em>? W-What's happening?" He yelled, his eyes already watering up.<br/>
<br/>
Sticking one of the guns down the back of his pants, Craig kept the other one in hand while his free arm gripped onto Tweek and began to drag him to the stairs. "GET upstairs, Tweek." He repeated harshly. Stopping at the bottom of the flight, he made the blond look at him, "Whatever you hear, <em>don't</em> come down. DON'T open the door, and DON'T make any noise." Craig warned him darkly. "Got it?"<br/>
<br/>
Tweek's lower lip trembled as he slowly nodded. Despite having told the blond nothing, Craig knew Tweek had figured it out; it had something to do with the money. But Tweek didn't want to see his boyfriend meet the same fate as Clyde and Token.<br/>
<br/>
Letting out a heavy breath, Craig pulled Tweek against him quickly, and planted a reassuring kiss on his lips. The small blond wrapped his arms around his neck tightly and kissed him back - trembling and doing his best not to cry. When they finally parted, the noirette nodded to him, and gave him a light push to continue up the stairs. Tweek scampered up them and disappeared.<br/>
<br/>
No sooner did his blond boyfriend leave, that Craig heard a loud bang against their front door. Spinning, he held up one of his guns and headed back toward the kitchen. Another solid noise hit the door, this time, smashing it right open. Craig shot wildly to the door, watching Cartman dive out of the way just in time.<br/>
<br/>
He was sure he heard Tweek yell from somewhere upstairs in alarm, but Craig had to ignore it. "You fat son of a bitch..." He cursed to himself.</p><p>Hearing a series of rushed footsteps, Craig peeked around the corner of the kitchen to see Cartman heading into their living room. Aiming his gun, Craig let out another round of rapid shots in his direction. Glass smashed, and some of their possessions were knocked clean off of tables as he fired blindly - hoping to end that manipulative asshole's life once and for all.<br/>
<br/>
When the shots ceased, Craig stood pressed against the wall, panting heavily as he waited.<br/>
<br/>
"God, I fuckin' <em>HATE</em> you, Craig!" Cartman's whiny voice came from wherever he was hiding in their living room. "Stop being a stupid asshole and just turn over your half!"<br/>
<br/>
Craig scoffed to himself as he tossed the empty gun onto the kitchen floor, and pulled the backup out from the back of his pants. "You've always had a <em>fucked</em> up sense of entitlement, you fat piece of shit." He called back calmly, despite how tense he felt. "What happened to convince you that YOU should get everyone's share?" He called angrily.<br/>
<br/>
"...Because I <em>should</em>. Simple as that." Cartman called back haughtily. "So you can piss and moan all you want, just give me your goddamn share you faggot - or I'll kill that twitching freak you call a boyfriend!" He threatened.<br/>
<br/>
Clenching his jaw, Craig moved from the kitchen door and stormed toward the living room - holding the gun up and shooting with each step he took. He caught a glimpse of moving around behind their couch as he moved toward the stairwell. Craig backed up the stairs as he stopped firing, covering himself as he scrambled up to the second floor. He could hear shots embedding themselves into the wall behind him as he moved.<br/>
<br/>
Heading down the hall, Craig knocked on their bedroom door. "Tweek, it's me," He whispered quickly. "Open the door."<br/>
<br/>
There were a few small noises that came from inside, "ARG! ... I-I don't BELIEVE YOU!" He screamed in sheer terror.<br/>
<br/>
"Tweek, it IS me!" Craig called back impatiently. His eyes shifted back to the stairwell as he held his gun ready. The sight of Cartman's head suddenly popping up with a gun - Craig had no choice but to dive out of the way and roll into the bathroom for cover as the fatass began to shoot again.<br/>
<br/>
Craig's eyes widened with concern; he hoped to God that Tweek wasn't anywhere near their bedroom door when Cartman had fired up at him. Leaning around the corner of the bathroom, Craig fired down the hall toward Cartman again as much as he could... before his gun simply 'clicked' - out of bullets.<br/>
<br/>
He growled to himself when he heard Cartman's laugh, "Out already, you dumb cunt?" He called down the hall smugly. "What a waste of fucking bullets. You couldn't hit a barn door, you stupid Jew." He ripped.<br/>
<br/>
Craig grit his teeth together and looked around the bathroom for any sort of weapon... but there was none. "Come out here, dickass." Cartman called. "You don't wanna be that asshole who dies in the bathroom, right?"<br/>
<br/>
It took every ounce of strength he had to bite his tongue - before Craig reluctantly got up and slowly walked into the hall.</p><p>Cartman was standing there smugly; his gun wasn't pointed at Craig, but it was resting idly in his hands. "I'm sorry to say that I will need to kill you." Cartman sighed. "Actually... fuck it. I'm not sorry. I've <em>never</em> liked you Craig. Since grade school, I have hated your guts." He admitted with a smirk. "So be a good boy and tell me where your shares are hidden." He ordered.<br/>
<br/>
Craig glared at him, but said nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"Speak up, asshole." Cartman warned as he waved his gun into the air.<br/>
<br/>
The sound of the bedroom door opening behind him caught Craig's attention - and instinctively, he dove to the ground and out of the way.</p><p>Cartman watched him with a puzzled expression, and turned around just in time to see Tweek standing in the doorway - pointing a gun at him. Before he could react, the blond shot repeatedly at him; one of the shots managing to graze his arm, causing Cartman to let out a string of curses as he bolted back down the stairs and out the door. He tried to reach his own gun back to fire at Tweek, but the wound in his arm prevented any aim, and he disappeared.<br/>
<br/>
Letting out a few deep breaths, Craig looked up at Tweek from his position on the floor. "...The <em>fuck</em> did you get that?" He asked.<br/>
<br/>
"<em>Nngh!</em>... y-you hid a gun in the -ack- closet... r-remember?" He commented bashfully, handing the weapon over to Craig. "F-F-For the gnomes."<br/>
<br/>
Standing up, Craig took it, and stuck it down the back of his pants again, before he kissed Tweek on the lips. "Thanks, Tweekers." He purred genuinely, giving his boyfriend a grateful smile. "You're my hero." Nudging him back into their bedroom, he grabbed a duffel bag, and began to toss a bunch of their things into it.<br/>
<br/>
"W-What are you doing?" Tweek asked worriedly, fearing for a moment that Craig was going to leave him.<br/>
<br/>
Craig continued to hastily move through the room, "We gotta get out of here." He grumbled. "Cartman's gone for now, but he'll be back. Kenny had the right idea; we have to leave South Park until things cool down." Craig instructed. "Grab our passports, and get the money."<br/>
<br/>
Tweek nodded, and began to help gather some of their things.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Craig isn't answering his phone." Kyle said worriedly. "Neither is Christophe."<br/>
<br/>
Stan was sat on their couch, "He's not going to come here." He muttered, "Cartman's not that stupid."<br/>
<br/>
"This is CARTMAN we're talking about." Kyle argued bitterly, looking out the window of their apartment. Shaking his head, he looked back to Stan. "This was a mistake, man." He sighed. "We should just come clean. I KNEW something like this would happen. Doing anything with that fatass is like giving him permission to fuck us over." He said.<br/>
<br/>
Feeling a strong hand grip his arm, Kyle was a bit shocked to see Stan pulling him back. "I'm only going to tell you ONE more time, Kyle," He hissed. "We're NOT coming clean. If I'm not going back to my stupid house where my dad just wastes away, I'm definitely not going to fucking <em>prison</em>."<br/>
<br/>
"Dude," Kyle sighed, "I know things have been rough since your mom left," He began gently. "But... I'd never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I just think-"<br/>
<br/>
The sound of their front apartment door flying open distracted both Stan and Kyle, and they froze as Cartman came in; one hand holding a gun, the other holding his arm, which was still oozing blood. "Seriously, I hate ALL of you assholes." He spat grumpily as he pointed his gun at the squabbling couple. "You guys havin' a lovers spat?" He smirked.<br/>
<br/>
"Cartman." Kyle growled threateningly. "You fucking fatass..." He hissed.<br/>
<br/>
His childhood rival just smirked, "Oh <em>Kahl</em>... no need to spend your last few moments on earth sucking a sour lemon. Why don't you kiss your pussy boyfriend goodbye instead?" He suggested.<br/>
<br/>
"Knock it off, Cartman. This has gone <em>far enough</em>!" Kyle snapped back defensively. "You can't just KILL everyone off! It's not far, and you have no RIGHT!"<br/>
<br/>
The husky young man narrowed his eyes at Kyle, lifting his gun a little higher. But instead of firing at him - he shifted his gun and shot Stan, striking the twenty-two year old right in his shoulder. Stan's expression fell as he tumbled back; blood seeping out of his wound and onto his shirt.<br/>
<br/>
"Stan!" Kyle yelled, trying to go back to him.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, ah, ah!" Cartman warned, pointing the gun back at the redhead and forcing him to keep still. "Give me the money, you Jew rat." He ordered calmly.<br/>
<br/>
He glared at his arch-nemesis. "You won't get far with that wound in your arm." Kyle pointed out. "You're spattering blood everywhere. They'll catch you... even <em>if</em> you kill me." He said.<br/>
<br/>
Cartman looked from Kyle, briefly to the wound on his arm - to see he had, in fact, dripped all over their apartment.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a small hiccup." He sneered. "If anyone comes after me, I'll just pay them off..." He shrugged with a devilish smirk. "God <em>knows</em> I'll have the money." Cartman paused, cocking the gun back again. "Speaking of which." He pressed, motioning for Kyle to get him their half of the money.<br/>
<br/>
But before Kyle could move, another shot was heard - and Cartman's face dropped.</p><p>Flicking his eyes down to Cartman's chest, Kyle saw blood spilling from his body. Cartman seemed just as shocked and confused, before he fell to his knees and finally, onto the ground; lifeless and still.</p><p>Kyle looked up and was shocked to see Christophe standing at the door - looking tired, but focused.<br/>
<br/>
He had a bandage wrapped around his forearm, which was tinted red. "Tophe..." Kyle breathed out in relief as a small smile touched the corner of his lips.<br/>
<br/>
The Frenchman gave a weary smile back - but just as his mouth opened to speak, another shot was fired, and the mercenary fell back into the hall.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle spun around to see Stan had gotten to his feet. His boyfriend was still bleeding and pale from Cartman's shot on him a few moments ago, but now, he too had a gun in hand - and was pointing it at Kyle.<br/>
<br/>
"...S-Stan... why did you do that?" He asked desperately.<br/>
<br/>
"I can't deal with this." Stan breathed out in an eerily calm voice. "I don't think you'll get over it... I don't think <em>you</em> can live with this money without feeling guilty - and you'll give us all up."<br/>
<br/>
The redhead's face dropped woefully, as he held up his hands in a 'surrendering' gesture, "S-Stan... I <em>swear</em> I won't." He whispered, the fear evident in his eyes. "I-I promise I won't say anything!" He continued, shifting his eyes from his agitated boyfriend to the gun in his hand. "But... we-- .... l- I love you... you <em>can't</em> do this..."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have a <em>fucking</em> choice, Kyle." Stan glared. "I love you... but I know you. And you <em>won't</em> let this go. You can say that now, but we BOTH know your guilt will get the best of you..." He said, releasing a deep breath. Kyle noticed Stan's eyes flicker back to where he'd just shot Christophe, and his eyes hardened. "I know you were cheating on me with Christophe." He added.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle's mouth dropped even more, "W-What!?" He choked out. "Stan, I-I NEVER cheated on you! I <em>wouldn't</em>..." He stammered anxiously.<br/>
<br/>
"Then why are you so flustered?" Stan snapped.<br/>
<br/>
"Because you're POINTING A GUN AT ME!" Kyle screamed back.<br/>
<br/>
Stan cocked the gun back to a loaded position, seemingly unfazed by the rationale.<br/>
<br/>
"Stan... p-please..." Kyle begged as tears streamed down his pale cheeks from his emerald green eyes. "Jesus Christ! I h-have <strong>never</strong> cheated on you... I-I love you, you're my best friend..." He said. "You can't do this."<br/>
<br/>
For a moment, the couple just stared at each other in silence.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry, Kyle..." Stan bit out tensely; his own ocean blue eyes were a mixture of confusion, desperation, anger, and weariness. This whole thing had been stressful on Stan, and Kyle knew it. Ever since his family had disbanded and fallen apart, Stan hadn't been the boy he'd known. This only proved it. And now, Kyle regretted not getting out sooner when Christophe had told him to.<br/>
<br/>
The dark-haired young man lifted the gun a little higher, preparing to shoot...<br/>
<br/>
Kyle closed his eyes and tensed; waiting for the shot that would end his life, and toss him into the unknown abyss with the likes of Token, Clyde, Gregory, and Cartman... hell, maybe even Tweek and Craig - if Cartman had gotten to them first.<br/>
<br/>
When a shot was heard, Kyle winced and waited for the pain to register.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>But... there wasn't any pain.<br/>
<br/>
He didn't feel anything.</p><p><br/>
Cracking open his green eyes, Kyle didn't see Stan in front of him anymore. Instead, his boyfriend was sprawled on the ground; a bullet hole between his eyes.</p><p>Kyle turned his shocked gaze toward the door, and saw Christophe sitting on the ground in their hall - propped up against the wall and bleeding with a gun in hand.<br/>
<br/>
"...T-Tophe..." Kyle choked out, rushing over to him. Kneeling down, he helped the French mercenary up to stand, wrapping his arms around him to support his injured weight. "C-Come on, we've gotta get you to a hospital." He said quickly.<br/>
<br/>
Christophe winced, "<em>Non</em>..." He breathed out in a hushed tone. "You... need to clean eet up..." He instructed. "You 'ave to do eet..."<br/>
<br/>
Kyle looked to him hesitantly, before bringing Christophe further into the apartment (pausing only to close the front door behind them) and into their bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
Setting him in the bathtub so he could relax and be propped up, Kyle cleared out their medicine cabinet before stumbling back through his now body-littered apartment to grab a needle and thread. Doing his best not to look at the lifeless, unblinking eyes of his ex or his childhood companion - he moved back into the bathroom. Kyle tried to wipe his remaining tears on the back of his sleeve before he stepped back to the bathtub where Christophe was.<br/>
<br/>
"Sew up ze wounds... <em>quicklee</em>..." Christophe told him calmly. "We will need to get out of 'ere..."<br/>
<br/>
The redhead nodded, and began to clean up the blood and wounds with alcohol, swabs and disinfectant - before he shakily began to sew up the Frenchman's shoulder.</p><p>Lucky for him, the shot had produced an exit wound, so they wouldn't need to try and fish out a bullet. Occasionally, Christophe would wince in pain, but he was very good at hiding it. He just had to focus on something else... and that something was Kyle.<br/>
<br/>
His dark brown eyes continued to flicker over the redhead's face. He looked drained and distraught; this was probably a lot to handle in the span of a few days. Frankly, Christophe wasn't surprised this whole thing had ended in bloodshed and betrayal; these jobs so often lapsed into that direction.<br/>
<br/>
But he was a mercenary and was used to it... someone like Kyle<em> wouldn't</em> be.</p><p>"Kyel..." He purred gently. "Are you ok?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." He snarled back; keeping his eyes on the wound he was sewing. "Half my friends are dead... and my boyfriend was ready to <em>shoot</em> me. So no, I'm not <strong>fucking</strong> ok."</p><p>Christophe noticed his lower lip trembling and his eyes watering as he spoke; trying to keep composted. He truly felt bad for Kyle; the redhead didn't deserve all this chaos. In hindsight, he regretted ever getting him involved, but they'd needed his intelligence and quick-thinking for the tech aspects of the job. Plus, he was stubborn. Sitting out of such a complex plan was never going to be an option. Christophe just wished he'd pulled the redhead aside, and explained what a potential fall-out could look like.<br/>
<br/>
When Kyle had finished sewing him up, he helped him back out of the tub. "Gazher your zhings..." Christophe told him. "We need to go."<br/>
<br/>
Slowly, Kyle nodded and left Christophe to pack a quick bag; tossing in some clothes and some cherished possessions and necessities before he wandered back into his apartment living room. Christophe was already there, and placing all the disregarded weapons (even the ones that didn't belong to him) back onto his person.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle stood there, still unsure of what to do... what to say, how to feel.</p><p>Cartman and Stan's bodies were still lying in front of him. Years of dating Stan had just gone down the toilet; his lover had switched from trusting him, to almost killing him.<br/>
<br/>
"I am sor'ee you 'ad to go through zhis..." Christophe admitted gently, noticing Kyle's dazed state. Moving over to him, Christophe cupped Kyle's face into his hands. "I told you zhat I would protect you... and I weel." He restated seriously. "Do you trust me?"<br/>
<br/>
Kyle looked up at Christophe sadly, trying to force down the urge to burst into tears and melt down - before he nodded slowly. "Y-Yes..." <em>Who else did he have now? No one.</em><br/>
<br/>
Christophe, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to shelter the younger boy. He wanted to whisk him away. He wanted to kiss him right there and there. Despite his own wounds and the pain he was in... the Frenchman was more worried about Kyle. He was always worried about him.<br/>
<br/>
But <em>now</em> wasn't the time. Christophe had just killed Kyle's lover - and the young man had lost a number of his close friends. "Come." He instructed with a slight gesture of his head. "I 'ave a connection. Zhere is a trade plane leeving ze area in an hour. I 'ave bribed ze pilot into geeving us a leeft. We need to leave South Park."<br/>
<br/>
Kyle nodded, still in a daze. He walked over to a closet and lifted one of the floorboards. Reaching in, he pulled out two duffel bags; his half, and Stan's half. Heading back toward the Frenchman, Kyle paused as his eyes lingered regretfully on Stan's lifeless body...</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Kyle stood outside the famous Louvre Museum with Christophe, who was idly smoking beside him as they waited.<br/>
<br/>
The two had been in Paris for almost three months now. They'd left South Park together after the tragedies and betrayals that followed from the heist. When they'd arrived in Paris, the two sought refuge in a small apartment the Frenchman used whenever he was back in his homeland visiting his mother.<br/>
<br/>
They had plenty of money to support themselves with - both Kyle <em>and</em> Stan's share, in addition to Christophe's and Gregory's. It had taken some adjusting, but in all honesty... Kyle felt a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders as soon as they'd settled in Paris. He learned French quickly, and fell in love (as most people do) with the city's vibrant life and beautiful architecture.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you zhinkeeng about?" Christophe's voice lulled Kyle from his thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
He looked to the mysterious brunette at his side and gave him a reassuring smile. "Just excited to see them, is all." He shrugged.<br/>
<br/>
"<em>Ah oui</em>," The Frenchman nodded. "You 'ave been stuck 'ere wiz me for zhree months... I do nut blame you for wanteeng to connect wiz your old friends."<br/>
<br/>
Christophe continued to smoke, though his eyes flickered down when he felt Kyle's hand slip into his own. "There's not anyone else I'd rather be 'stuck' here with." The redhead reassured him gently.<br/>
<br/>
Grinning, Christophe leaned down and kissed him deeply. The shorter boy sunk into the embrace and nestled his nose against the mercenary's as they pulled apart.</p><p>"I knew you were going to start boning each other." The cocky voice of Kenny McCormick broke the new couple from their haze.<br/>
<br/>
Both turned to see Kenny and Butters approaching with smiles on their faces; they looked well, healthy, and happy. Butters immediately ran forward and wrapped his arms around Kyle in a friendly hug. "I-I'm so happy to see you again!" Butters gushed. "I'm awful glad you're alright!" before pulling back and looking over Kyle sadly. "A-And... well, gosh, Kenny told me w-what happened... with Stan and all..."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." Kyle nodded, his own smile faltering a bit, before he shook it off. "We lost some good friends because of this thing... but... we have to look ahead, right?"<br/>
<br/>
Butters nodded, "T-That's right."<br/>
<br/>
Kenny and Christophe had been chatting before they switched, and Kenny moved over to greet Kyle with a hug. "You ok?" He asked seriously, looking over his childhood friend with concern.<br/>
<br/>
"I've gotten better." He admitted to his friend. "Loosing Stan was--..." Kyle trailed off, shaking his head.<br/>
<br/>
Kenny seemed to understand the unfinished lament, and nodded along, "Hard." He added. "I'm sure it was. I didn't think he'd take it all so badly. It's a shame... you were good together." He admitted. But his eyes flickered over to Christophe - who was talking to Butters. "But... <em>he's</em> good for you, too." Kenny encouraged, without mentioning 'who' he was referring to. "He'll keep you safe and grounded."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." Kyle agreed, giving a small smile as he looked back to Christophe. The mercenary's eyes connected with him briefly - that smoldering look making him blush again. "He will."<br/>
<br/>
<em>"ACK! </em>O-Oh Jesus..."<br/>
<br/>
The loud, familiar exclamation drew everyone's attention as their eyes fell on Craig and Tweek; the noirette leading the blond along like he always did.<br/>
<br/>
"And where did <em>you</em> come from?" Kenny asked with a teasing smirk.<br/>
<br/>
Craig shrugged, still looking as bored as ever despite the beautiful city they were in. "Not far. We're locals now."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" Kyle asked, looking to Christophe. "Did you know they were here?"<br/>
<br/>
The Frenchman shrugged, "Oui. I eenvited zhem, deed I nut?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why didn't you tell me they were living in the same city as us?" He complained, huffing out a breath.<br/>
<br/>
Christophe shrugged, wrapping an arm around Kyle's waist. "Eet deed nut seem like ze right time." He admitted. "I wanted to make sure you 'ad adjusted to zhis new citee and life... before we met with ze past again." He soothed.<br/>
<br/>
"<em>Nngh</em>! Fuck, I-I'm glad you're all OK!" Tweek yelled, a bit louder than usual as he tugged at his hair nervously.<br/>
<br/>
Kenny smirked, "I'm surprised you got Tweek to settle in a foreign country were English isn't the primary language." He mused.<br/>
<br/>
"He's actually pretty good at speaking French." Craig admitted with a fond smile. "He works in a café... just for 'fun', apparently." he muttered; all of them had more than enough money to support themselves now, so jobs weren't entirely necessary. But Craig wouldn't deny Tweek the choice to do what he wanted to make him happy.<br/>
<br/>
"W-Well gee fellas, catchin' up is swell, but... aw <em>heck</em>, I wanna go into the museum!" Butters insisted with a cute pout, tugging on Kenny's arm.<br/>
<br/>
Exchanging bemused glances between one another, the three couples headed into the museum to do a bit of wandering for the day. Christophe had explained to Kyle that the arrangement to meet in Pairs would help reassure them all that everyone was doing alright. Having pulled many jobs like this in the past, the mercenary knew an important 'post' step to any job was the follow up.<br/>
<br/>
As they headed inside and through the line-up, Christophe looked down to the shorter redhead at his side. "Do you steel mees 'im?" He asked calmly. Kyle shifted his green eyes up to the brunette, and paused only for a moment, before he slipped his hand back into Christophe's, giving it a firm squeeze.<br/>
<br/>
"Not so much anymore..." He admitted with a small smile, leaning against the other comfortably as they moved through the line, and into the actual museum after paying their cover.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle <em>did</em> miss Stan in many ways - but his best friend had crumbled completely after the job. And he'd been ready to kill him. So as painful as it was to accept, Kyle knew it was either HIM or Stan that had to go. Christophe had secured Kyle's place on this earth for a little while longer, and he was grateful for it.<br/>
<br/>
They had done horrible things to get here; they'd ventured into a more criminal world, they had deceived other friends and family... and they'd unfortunately let things get out of control. But they each had a new life now.<br/>
<br/>
<em>"...And over here, is the infamous painting; Liberty leading the People - by Eugene Delacroix." One of the tour guides explained to a small group. Christophe and Kyle were passing, and stopped to listen as she continued with her tour group, "It's one of the many priceless works of art within these walls, and is a real homage to the French Revolution." She said with a practiced broad smile.</em><br/>
<br/>
Leading the group away, Kyle and Christophe stayed to admire the painting.<br/>
<br/>
But when Kyle looked over to his boyfriend, he saw the Frenchman had a mischievous smirk on his lips. The redhead furrowed his brow, looking between Christophe and the painting, before he narrowed his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"No." He said knowingly. "No, no no..." He shook his head.<br/>
<br/>
Christophe tilted his head. "Ah, but <em>mon cher</em>, eet would be such a tribute to... eh... our struggles, oui? <em>Viva La Resistance</em>?" He purred encouragingly. "We could 'ang eet in ze apartment."<br/>
<br/>
"No, no <em>no no</em>." Kyle repeated. "We are NOT stealing the Liberty painting." He said firmly, glaring at his boyfriend's bravado.<br/>
<br/>
The brunette grinned, "<em>S'il vous plaît, mon amour?</em>" He pressed teasingly, placing a few kisses along the column of Kyle's neck. <br/>
<br/>
"<em>Nngh</em>! W-What are you two -ack- talking about?" Tweek asked eagerly as he and Craig approached them.<br/>
<br/>
Kyle looked at the blond, "<em>Nothing</em>. Christophe is just being selfish and stupid - thinking that he NEEDS this painting." He muttered, gesturing to the infamous picture.<br/>
<br/>
"That's stupid." Craig hummed, passing a dull look over the piece of art before he turned back to Christophe. "If we're gonna steal something, it should be the Mona Lisa." He shrugged. "We'll get way more money."<br/>
<br/>
Tweek tugged on his hair, "<em>G-GAH</em>! S-Stop talking about that! We're n-not going to do it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Zhat eez a good point." Christophe mused, nodding slowly as his eyes took in the Louvre. "I would be game for takeeng 'er." He agreed.<br/>
<br/>
The two boys errupted in laughter as their shorter-counterparts tried to whack them upside the head repeatedly; their chagrined and amused faces forced to apologize to the nearby guard who told them to 'keep it down'.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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